


In A Nightmare, Darkly

by SecondFromTheRight



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:27:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25094596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecondFromTheRight/pseuds/SecondFromTheRight
Summary: “Iris.” He tries quietly, careful in his approach.He needn’t have bothered. By her non-reaction, she was aware of him the entire time.“I worried I would lose my mind,” she says, stopping him where he stands. “But I didn’t think it would be like this.” she adds, her voice numb and hurt. She brings her hand to her forehead, rubbing at the skin by her hairline.Barry moves quickly until he’s by his wife’s side. With a sob, she turns to him, hiding herself against his neck as she has done in bed after the nightmares.Set Post-Mirrorverse. Iris struggles to adjust and Barry tries to be there.
Relationships: Barry Allen/Iris West, Iris West & Wally West
Comments: 7
Kudos: 67





	In A Nightmare, Darkly

**Author's Note:**

> Another 'Iris needs to process the shit she's put through, people!' fic. Just a small oneshot this time. I don't think it's much like my other post-Mirrorverse. It's not as intense, for one, and it's in Barry's POV.
> 
> I still have not seen Season 6, but I have seen more scenes than my last fic at least. So I hope this is okay and I'm not missing super obvious things or there's something that doesn't make sense with canon.
> 
> Title is a reference to Star Trek.

Iris has a nightmare the first night she’s back home.

Barry wakes to her murmurs of distress as she lies by his side. Blinking his eyes fully open, he elevates himself on his arm, turns and puts a hand to his wife’s cheek in an attempt to calm her. “Iris,” he whispers as he gently strokes his thumb against her cheekbone.

Instead of the soothing he’d hoped for, she starts twitching. Slight at first, but then she practically thrashes and Barry moves to wake her up. “Iris, wake up. You’re safe,” he tries again, watching her intently. “Iris.” He repeats louder, panic gripping him as he runs his hand down to her jaw, then her shoulder until he has a firm hold on her upper arm.

They don’t know the effects of the Mirrorverse – if she’s still connected, somehow. They don’t know fully how it works. And he'd been warned, that she wouldn't be the same. What-ifs race through his mind as he holds her. “Iris.” He continues, hearing the waver in his voice as worry takes over.

Finally she wakes with something of a gasp, her eyes widening in one blink as she turns and steadies herself.

Barry keeps his hand on her, going with her movement instead of trying to hold her still. After a look around the room to gain her bearings, she meets his eyes. “Barry.” She says in an exhale before she swallows, and gives a tearful sniff.

He wipes away the tear that falls from the corner of her eye. “Hey, you’re okay,” he reassures her. “You’re home.”

Iris gives an uneasy nod, twice, three times, as she lets herself calm down. “Barry.” She repeats as she reaches a hand out to touch his chest.

Shifting himself so he doesn’t have to lean on his arm, he instead uses it to cover her hand on his chest, clasping her hand in his. “What happened?” he asks.

She shakes her head like it’s expected as something to deal with now, like it’s obvious. Her focus is lowered like she can’t look at him. “I was just…still trapped,” she explains before letting out a tiny gasp as her eyes fill with tears again. “I couldn’t be with you.” She says tearfully, making herself meet his eyes.

His hold on her hand tightens, curling his fingers around hers as he keeps his other against her cheek. “You’re here, with me. We’re both here, in our home.” He says, deliberately meeting her eyes.

“Yeah,” she nods before letting out a slow and shaky, tearful breath. “Okay.” She adds in acceptance, but she gives another unsure look around the room anyway.  
Barry takes his wife in his arms, turning and lowering them flat to the bed again. Iris meets him, sliding down the bed next to him as she cuddles in close to him, tucking her head under his. He smooths her hair gently, trying to comfort her.

It happens again the next night. Same shudders, same noises.

Learning from the night before, Barry takes a hold of her upper arms first, making his way higher with one after a moment until he’s at her neck and jawline. “Iris,” he says gently, making himself go through the motions some rather than startling her awake immediately. “Iris, come on, wake up.” He continues even as the same worry nips at him again, building heavily in his chest as the what-ifs continue to scare him. How long will that continue? What if he can’t wake her up? What if –

Barry lets out a breath as she does as she wakes up. He strokes back loose hairs at her hairline, needing to touch her, needing to ground himself as much as she does.

“Same dream?” he asks when she doesn’t say anything.

Her head is lowered as she gives a slight nod, and whimper a quiet, pained “Hm mm.” through closed lines.

It doesn’t help his worry.

“We’re okay.” He tells her.

Her eyes lift to his, staring for a second before she leans into him with a hug, wrapping her arms around him. Barry hugs her back, holding his wife just as tightly. She seems to hide into him and eventually he eases them back down to their bed, and Barry keeps them like that, entangled.

Iris’s breath evens out after some time, but Barry stays awake.

On the third night, he stays awake and watches her, deciding to let her fall asleep first. Maybe he can comfort her as she sleeps before it gets bad? Maybe he can stop it happening?

He learns soon into the night, that he can’t. He can’t do much of anything except be there afterwards, just like when she was taken in the first place and he didn’t understand what was happening for way too long. He’s too late, again.

“Sorry.” She apologises on that third night when he’s woken her. She’s unable to keep up eye contact with him this time, looking down shamefully in a way that physically hurts.

Shaking his head, he tries to bring her back. “No, Iris, you have nothing to be sorry for, okay? We can get through this together. And this – this is – ”

“Normal?” she cuts him off.

Barry pauses, trying to decide the best way to handle it. “You went though a lot, so yes, I think it is.”

She doesn’t say anything, sitting on the bed silent with her head bowed. She’s disconnected, experienced and grown without him. He hates it. Hates that she went through it alone, hates that he can’t stop these dreams, hates that he doesn’t have real answers. Taking a breath, reminds himself he is not powerless, not with Iris, and never with this, never in this – their relationship, their marriage.

Moving until he’s sitting up against the headboard with a hand over her arm and rubbing near her inner elbow, connecting them, he encourages her to talk to him. “What happens in the dreams? He asks. “Is it the same one every time?”

Iris looks at him, stalling, he realises, questioning if she should say anything. Barry worries he’s selfish, that he needs this more than she does. “You can talk to me, if you want to.” He offers, trying to find a balance for them both, focusing on them as a couple – a couple who will get through this, like they have everything else.

She swallows, hesitating, but her body slumps a little as she relaxes. Wetting her lips, she shifts towards him. “It’s not always the same, but it is the same things – what happened there,” she starts. “Watching you, then not being able to,” she trails off and looks away. Barry gives a gentle squeeze at her elbow, communicating that he’s here, and he’ll wait for her. Her shoulders heave with a heavy exhale. “Not knowing which is worse sometimes.” She says, turning to him with small, hurt smile that Barry wants to kiss away.

Instead, he sits in audience for her, giving a reassuring stroke of her skin with his thumb.

In response, Iris turns her arm so she’s holding his elbow, fully clasping their forearms together. “And I’m alone and I can’t get out. I can’t find my way back to you.” She says in a tearful whisper, her brow crinkling in distress as her grip on his elbow gets tighter until he feels her nails.

“We’ll always find our way back to each other, Iris.” He immediately promises.

Iris stares at him, tilting her head as she assesses what she wants to say. “Sometimes I…” she pauses but Barry waits, continuing to meet her eyes. “I didn’t know if there would be anything left of me to find.” She swallows as tears escape her eyes.

Barry feels his own tears. “You’re right here. Home.” He promises her.

He lifts his free arm in offering; Iris takes him up on it immediately, covering his body with her own as she presses her lips against his in a slow, reassuring kiss before dropping herself to his chest, tucking into his side.

Leaning his head on hers, Barry keeps her in his arms, as safe as he can. Below, he feels and hears Iris let out a breath.

On the fourth night he stays up again as she sleeps, hoping he can watch over her, that this time he can be better, but hours later he finds himself dropping off as nothing seems to happen. She sleeps soundly and he eventually falls with her into sleep.

Something wakes him up through the night, something that isn’t the nightmares he’s becoming used to. No noises of upset, no movement beside him. Instead, he finds that Iris is already awake, and staring at him.

Immediately, he reaches for her. “Are you okay?” he asks sleepily, giving a clear of his throat as he tries to wake up.

“I’m fine.” She says with a small smile.

Barry frowns, from tiredness, from worry. “Did you have a nightmare?”

“Hm.” She gives a small nod.

Closing his eyes, Barry sighs regretfully. “Iris, I’m so sorry I didn’t wake up.”

Her mouth curls on one side. “It’s okay.” She assures, too quiet, too still and distance for his liking.

“Do you want anything?” he offers, trying to help, trying to give something, trying to give anything. “Water? Tea?” he suggests. “Breakfast?” he continues to list off – he’ll get her anything she wants, from anywhere she wants. It’s way too early for breakfast in Central City but she seems awake and he’ll run as far as she needs.

She moves and rests her head on his chest, pulling herself as close to his side as she can. “Just this.” She says against his chest.

“I love you, Iris.” He says as he holds her. It’s a reassurance, a promise, a commitment and dedication. He will be here, through all of this. For anything she needs, anything he can do, he’s here for her. And an apology, for not being able to do more, for not being to fix it, for not being able to stop all of it happening in the first place.

“I love you.” She says back.

The fifth night she has two nightmares. Barry wakes up for both.

The second time she sighs, annoyed at herself, at the situation.

“Maybe we should make an appointment with Dr. Finkel?” he suggests as they sit together in their bed.

“And how would I explain it?” she pushes back, seemingly more annoyed, more frustrated. Trapped, he thinks, she still feels trapped.

He shakes his head. “The same way we have with everything else,” he says quietly, trying to bring her back down from her upset. “We’ll figure it out,” he promises but she remains silent, thoughtful. “It could help.” He adds, trying to encourage the idea. Dr. Finkel has helped him more than once, and them. This shouldn’t be any different.

“No,” she declines, but the anger is gone. She looks to him, meeting his eyes with a thoughtful frown. “Maybe, but not yet.” She concedes a little.

“Okay,” he readily accepts with a nod. “It’s an option, yeah?”

Iris gives her own nod, looking everywhere but him. There’s so much going on in her mind and Barry doesn’t know how to figure it out. And he doesn’t want to be another burden to her, someone she has to explain to. He doesn’t want to let her down – he won’t, not again.

Sniffling, she gets up suddenly. “I’m going to make some coffee.”

“Coffee sounds good.” He says quickly, trying to support her. It’s still too early, but it’s a decision she’s made in a moment she’s so obviously looking for control and Barry refuses to take it away from her – refuses to do anything but support her.

She nods her head wordlessly as she leaves the room.

He takes the moment before he gets up too. It’s the first time she’s gotten up through the night after a dream; the first time she’s given up after a dream.

“Have you talked to Kamilla about it?” he asks once he makes his way downstairs. “Maybe she’s going through the same thing?”

“No.” Iris answers to both questions as she busies herself grabbing two mugs and pointedly not looking at him.

Barry knows not to push it. He could talk to Cisco and see how Kamilla is doing, but he can’t. He can’t do that to Iris. It has to be her pace. She’s let him be there for her all week after every dream. Even though the worry burns and he wants to act, he’ll let her lead this. After losing Nora, he'd stepped away from Iris without even realising he was really doing it as they both lost themselves in work. They have to try something different this time. He has to be there through it all. Together.

The nightmares continue, consistent though quiet. Barry hasn't told any of the team about it, feeling stuck and not knowing when is the time to involve the others for her sake, but he knows it's not yet. He won't take that choice away from her. They've found some kind of balance between day work with their respective teams, and cocooning themselves to the loft and just being together. On the seventh night though he wakes up an empty bed, and freaks the fuck out.

“Iris,” he immediately whispers in panic before calling for her as he gets out of bed and clambers down the stairs, having to stop himself using his speed. “Iris!”

“ _Iris_.” He repeats in a relieved sigh and confirmation when he finds her at the window seat bench downstairs, light coming from a single lamp by the couch. Exhaling through his nose, he stands and watches her but she shows no acknowledgement of his presence and he worries about startling her, if she’s so lost in her thoughts.

“Iris.” He tries quietly, careful in his approach.

He needn’t have bothered. By her non-reaction, she was aware of him the entire time.

“I worried I would lose my mind,” she says, stopping him where he stands. “But I didn’t think it would be like this.” she adds, her voice numb and hurt. She brings her hand to her forehead, rubbing at the skin by her hairline.

Barry moves quickly until he’s by his wife’s side. With a sob, she turns to him, hiding herself against his neck as she has done in bed after the nightmares.

Barry holds her until she quietens, eventually falling asleep in his arms. He moves them to the couch, hoping the change will bring a different outcome as they sleep for another couple of hours. He places her between the back of the couch and himself, trying to protect her.

On the eleventh night, he wakes up alone again as he has three times now. Quickly, he gets up, making his way out of the room to hopefully find her downstairs in the living room like the other before. It’s hard but he doesn’t call her name this time, used to the scenario even as he wants to scream her name aloud, and he finds himself glad he doesn’t call for her when he hears her talking. Immediately stopping on the stairs, he listens with a frown.

“Okay, and then what?” She asks someone. “What do you want me to do now?” she continues seeking direction.

His heart stops, then picks up in a rush that has him almost hyperventilating – something he’s aware shouldn’t really be happening to him, especially not as he stands motionless.

What is happening? He'd been warned - warned she wouldn't be the same, warned she would lose some of herself. What if it takes longer than they'd expected to affect her? What if Eva left something they didn’t know about? What if it’s happening again? What if Iris has been taken again? What if Iris never came back? What if he’s been fooled, again? What if she’s gone back because being back is worse?

What-if after what-if takes over, terrifying him. His whole life is on the edge right in front of him and he can feel it in every nerve-ending.

It can’t, it just can’t. He feels his wife with him – it’s Iris. He’s too connected, too grounded – it is her. It's her, he knows it is, he knows it.

“I can do it!” He hears her snap at someone, stealing his breath.

No. No. He shakes his head in denial as he stands there. It's not possible. It can't be.

He questions everything. Crisis, the colour of the sky, the quadratic equation, Newton’s laws of motion, Boltzmann’s constant, Thawne’s existence, his own powers. _Everything_.

“Might wanna shut up if you’re going it do it properly.” He hears another voice say, leaving Barry shouldering the wall as all of his anxiety drains in a rush.

Wally.

God, _Wally_.

“Do I have to close my eyes?” Iris questions in a complaint.

“Uh, pretty much, yeah,” Wally says with a short chuckle that has the dull echo of a connection. “You having trouble doing that?” He asks after a moment, much more seriously.

“Yeah.” She admits sadly.

Barry finds himself gently leaning his head against the wall as he sighs.

“You know, I could be there in a second. Talk you through it in person.” Wally offers and from the tone, Barry is sure it isn’t the first time he’s asked.

“This is fine,” Iris quickly dismisses. There’s a short silence before she continues. “I don’t want to wake up Barry.”

“You mean you haven’t told him,” Wally concludes and there’s something protective that laces his brother in law’s words that allows Barry the smallest smile, even as he worries that Iris doesn’t want to talk to him, or know how to. “How long you planning to keep that one going for, sis?”

Iris exhales loudly enough that Barry hears it. “Until I have something that can actually change this… _waiting_ we’ve been living lately.” She says bitterly, that annoyance he’s seen clear in her voice.

Carefully, to avoid being heard but also because suddenly he realises how tired he is, he lowers himself to the stair until he’s sitting, and listening to a conversation he shouldn’t be.

“Iris, he wants to help.” Wally tries on his behalf.

“Of course he does,” she accepts easily, giving Barry some reassurance – he thinks he can hear a soft smile in her words too. “But until I know I can be helped, I…” she cuts herself off. “Can you just help me this, please?” he asks of her brother, her tone a mix of demand and desperation that makes Barry bow his head, even as he hears Iris be a sister – a role she loves, and he knows, misses.

“Alright, but I’m gonna bug you about it each time we do this. The amount you can benefit is seriously limited if you’re simultaneously blocking yourself from the person you share everything with.” Wally lectures somewhat, though in contrast to Iris, his tone is calming, solid and wise in a way Barry found out for himself when he visited recently.

“Fine.” Iris accepts.

“Eyes open.” Wally instructs, giving allowances for her fear.

Barry frowns as he wipes his cheeks of tears.

“Drop your shoulders.” His brother in law continues.

“Thanks, Wally.” Iris praises softly, gratefully.

“I am amazing.” Wally says, causing both brother and sister to laugh.

Barry has his own smile, even as he wets his lips and smooths at the tear-dried skin on his face. Quietly, he pushes himself up from the stair and goes back to their bedroom, leaving brother and sister to their mediation.

Barry can’t – won’t – lie to his wife. It’s happened too many times before and he’s been lucky she’s understood what’d he’d been trying to do at least, but he just won’t now, especially when there isn’t a real need to and especially when they’re both trying to rebuild something. So he puts on a t-shirt, waits up in bed for her and immediately asks how Wally is with an understanding smile as she joins him again just over an hour later.

Iris takes a breath, giving him a closed-mouth smile as she exhales through her nose. “You heard us?”

“Yeah,” he nods, before frowning with some concern as he searches her face. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” she nods as well, but she turns away, avoiding his eyes. “Yeah, of course it is.”

“Iris.” He tries as he covers her hand with his own.

With another sigh, she seems to steel herself before turning to him. “I’m just not…” she trails off as she tilts her head upwards, thinking. “I don’t really have a plan to deal with this. I don’t know how long it’s going to take, how I’m supposed to…to measure how I am?” she shares.

Barry nods earnestly, encouraging her to continue.

“And when we got back and you and Cisco ran as many tests as you could and didn’t find anything wrong,” she shakes her head. “I was just relieved because I didn’t know if that’s how things were going to turn out. And I guess…” she pauses again, shaking her head as she consumes her own thoughts once again. Barry watches with a frown as she lifts her free hand to her temple, slightly scratching there.

“Now you’re wondering if that’s really the case.” Barry finishes for her.

She meets his eyes, flicking over his face as she drops her hand. “Yeah,” She says sadly. “And I’m scared. And if I’m not okay, what does that mean for Kamilla and Singh? Neither of them are experiencing what I am.” She continues because he can ask. “I’ve asked them,” she supplies, probably reading his expression. “A-and both are fine. Or at least, they don’t have nightmares and restless nights where they can’t sleep and they sit in a daze.”

At the same time, they both turn their hands against the other as they link their fingers, squeezing tightly.

“I think,” he clears his throat of emotion so he can speak properly; Iris gives him an understanding smile. “I think mediation is a good thing to do. And talking to Wally too, to others, is as well,” he adds, but she's still quiet. “We can do more tests?" he offers, hoping to engage her. "Follow ups? We can call Caitlin. I’m sure she’ll help – we could go see her.”

“Maybe.” Iris allows without much enthusiasm.

“Still no headaches?” he checks.

"Mn mn," she murmurs in negative with a shake of her head before she turns to him with a clearer expression. “Maybe we could make an appointment Dr. Finkel like you said.”

Barry is nodding before he decides what he wants to say. “I think so, yeah.” he says, relieved she's found something to move forward on - and selfishly, feeling pride that it is something he suggested.

“Yeah.” Iris agrees, her tone thoughtful.

“Coffee?” he offers, ready to get up for the day if it’s what she wants.

“No, let’s try to get some more sleep.” Iris decides as she slides further down the bed until she’s flat and under the blankets.

Barry follows, turning on his side to face her. Leaning over, he kisses her shoulder, resting his lips on her bare skin for a moment longer as he comforts himself and simply enjoys her.

Iris squeezes a hand between them until she’s fingering the collar of his t-shirt, resting her hand there. “Isn’t mediation supposed to set up for the day?” he risks teasing.

“I’m not good at it yet.” She mumbles sleepily in excuse, making him smile against her skin.

Pulling away, he lies beside her, but can’t resist reaching out to stroke just under her ear and along the edge of her hair wrap. Thinking of the times he's seen her lost in thought as she touches at her temple recently, Barry expands his area of attention, slowly stroking around her neck and back again.

She gives a small murmur of pleasure, tilting her head further into the pillow and allowing him to continue.

“I’ll call Dr. Finkel in the morning.” She says, sounding more relaxed.

“I can do it?” Barry offers, not sure it’s what’s best but putting it out there anyway.

“S’okay, I got it,” she says before her eyes blink open sleepily, finding his eyes. “But thanks, Barry. I’m so glad to be back home with you.”

“My home is you, Iris.” He whispers.

Her mouth curls into a soft smile, one so completely Iris, as she closes her eyes and shuffles even closer. Close enough that to continue touching her neck, Barry wraps his arm around her, his elbow resting along her back.

He continues stroking her skin long after her breath evens out and she falls into slumber again. Silently, he promises himself and her that he'll be through her sleeping, through nightmares, through sessions. Whatever it takes, whatever she needs, he'll be there.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading as always.
> 
> And I hope everyone is keeping safe. Engaged, but as safe as possible.


End file.
